Prohibited Love
by theimpossibleispossible
Summary: AU: Patterson is FBI, Tasha is a part time student at NYU, but at night she works till dawn in a sketchy strip club.
1. The Mysterious Girl in the Bathroom

It wasn't that the music was loud, it was the type of music that they were playing. It sounded as if a stereo and blender decided to compose a song alongside a robot. If she had, to be honest, it wasn't just the music that made her feel uncomfortable and irritated, but also the company. Her coworkers were usually tranquil and well behaved, but every year at the annual holiday party, she felt like she saw a different side of them. A wild and exotic side that should be kept in. Though it did bring some sort of joy to go over the pictures and videos the following Monday morning.

"Patterson, you want another tequila?" Jane shouted into her ear as she maintained her balance by holding onto Patterson's shoulders.

"No, I'm good." She cautiously said as she made sure that Jane didn't fall. She grasped her hands and seated her next to her. She pushed the bowl of peanuts over, suggesting that she eat some. Though at first Jane showed no interest in what Patterson had placed in front of her. After an exchange of glances, she eventually ended up eating more than half of the bowl. Noticing that Kurt was making his way over, she got up. Leaving the seat vacant for him. Not because of courtesy but because she suspected that there was something going on between the two.  
Kurt thanked her, his voice sounding as raspy and deep as always. No amount of alcohol could make him slur his words.

She decided that it would be a smart idea to go to the bathroom before leaving home. Especially, because it was the Friday before Christmas, the Friday that most people decide to have their holiday parties. Hence, the traffic was at an all-time high in the city of New York. As she made her way across the dance floor, she couldn't help but stare at the confused faces she called her coworkers. Most of them were drunk and a few of them were either on herb or powder, something she didn't think was the most ethical thing to do given who they were, where they worked, and what they did.

Glad to be on the other side of the room, she quickly opened the door. Making her way to the bathroom she noticed something in the corner of her eye. It was a woman reading a textbook. At first, she was confused, but since her body didn't give her any time to stop, she was already half way across the lounge. Opening one of the wooden doors, she rushed into the stall. Part of her couldn't get the image out of her head. The woman with long dark brown hair, her eyes glued onto the pages, and her wardrobe. She was dressed to go out and party, in all of the bare honesty, she was dressed to begin stripping down a pole. Instead, she was pages deep into a textbook. Her mind began to race with possible reasons as to why she was reading on a Friday of all nights. It was a sight she had never seen before. Therefore, it wasn't long before she was deep into her hypothesis as to why that woman was there.

Realizing that she had spent too much time thinking about the woman and the plausible scenarios of her situation, she decided to get out of the stall before she had the toilet seat engraved onto her ass.

She had never gasped so hard in her life, at least not by accident. The woman was there, standing by the sinks. She was too busy to notice her, though. Applying mascara was a difficult task even for those proficient with makeup. She saw how tenaciously concentrated she was when applying the content on her eyelashes.  
Patterson could have sworn that the beautiful brown eyed woman in front of her had noticed her. Yet, she stood there like an idiot, admiring her technique. As a smile crept on the woman's lips, she finally turned around. "You want some?" She offered, extending the tube of makeup outward. Patterson didn't understand what she had just said, she was too busy contemplating the sound of her voice. It was so different, it was unique. "A simple 'no' would have sufficed." She turned around and put the makeup away.

Patterson didn't want to stand there dumbfounded like an idiot, but for the first time in her life, she was speechless. She couldn't believe that this was her first expression. Watching as she began to pack her bag, she became nervous. It was then when she felt herself hesitating to get any type of words out. "What are you reading?" She blurted, not having processed her thoughts completely before expelling them through her mouth.

She chuckled, "A sociology textbook." She lifted the book up. All Patterson nodded, and then without thinking she grasped the textbook. "Please don't tell me that sociology is your major and that everything in it is garbage because to be frank… I really don't care. I've also had it happen to me various times, and I am quite sick of it."

Patterson was fond of her sass, she had never met anyone so expressive and unafraid to say what she thought. Still, there was something different about the woman standing in front of her that made her feel so intrigued. She pretended to look through the pages, making it seem like she was interested. She flipped through the pages rather quickly, frustrated with herself for having the decency to do so, she handed the book back. "I really don't care about sociology, I just wanted to know why you're so interested in it, enough to read it here."

She snatched the book back, "Well, what's wrong with catching up on some reading?"

Patterson wasn't sure if it was a rhetorical question or not. Baffled on what to say she took a quick deep breath. "Well, umm nothing. I'm just curious as to why here?"

She got up on the sink, her short dress sliding up barely keeping her covered. "Why should I be answering these questions from a stranger? I mean I don't even know your name." She sounded flirtatious and curious, but Patterson didn't want to respond in the same way. She didn't want to risk being a flirt and scaring the woman off. She wanted to be her friend and flirting wasn't going to get her that."Your name?"

"Patterson." She rushed, she wanted to pull out her name tag to prove it, but she knew that would have been a bad idea.

"Patterson?" The girl questioned. "Hmm."

Patterson nodded, "Well yes, I go by Patterson. I'm not fond of my first name, so you can refer to me as Patterson, just like everyone else." She noticed how the still nameless woman nodded. Unlike everyone who she met, she did not ask what her first name was. Somehow she felt relieved, but at the same time concerned. Maybe she just doesn't care enough to want to know my name. The door from outside opened, allowing the loud music in. It took a while for the music to fade. They both waited to see who it was, and to Patterson's luck, it was Jane. No, actually it was drunk Jane. The Jane that had taken too many shots two hours ago. Patterson cussed as she made her way over. "Jane, are you okay?"

"Yeah… I'm good." She lifted her thumbs up.

"You don't look good." The woman sitting on the sink said, "I mean you look good, great actually, I've never met someone who could pull off leather like that, but you are not well. I mean..." Jane and Patterson tentatively waited for her to continue to speak. "You're drunk, maybe wasted." She looked over directly at Patterson. "Is this your friend?"

Patterson didn't know what to say, primarily because she had no idea how she would react. "Yeah, were here because of the holiday party thingy." Jane interrupts. She then excuses herself to go to the bathroom. Patterson then looked back at the woman, noticing that serene strokes of emotion on her face.

Usually, she was good at reading people, but this was the first time she was having trouble. Part of herself still felt conflicted with what she wanted to gain from the conversation. Was she doing it to get a number out of her or was she doing it finally establish a friendship? What she did know was that she wanted to see her again. She seemed like an interesting person, intriguing also, though she knew it was because she was still just 'she', nameless.

"Patterson, are you going to babysit your friend all night?"

"No, no. I don't think so." She noticed that she was packing her makeup and textbook. She took a little jump off the sink, and then pulled down her dress. "Why?" She asked as she tried not jump into conclusions.

She shrugged her shoulders, feeling unsure, "I don't know." She looked at Patterson the same way Patterson looked at her. A gaze filled with hope and insecurity.

"I could help you study," Patterson suggested after their uninterrupted seconds of silence. She felt like she had no clue with what she was doing. She just felt so off, so not herself and if things had been different they wouldn't be still in the bathroom.

She glanced at her with a smile, "Yeah?"

"Yes, I mean I was pretty good at the whole college thing."

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Are you saying I'm not?" She then grasped her bag close. "You want to wait for your friend or do you want to get out of here?"

Patterson wide-eyed nodded her head. "Let me just make sure she's okay." She knocked on the stall, "Jane, you alright?"

"I'm fine, I'm just drunk." She took a long pause. Enough to get Patterson and the woman next to her concerned, Get out of here, Patterson." She joked.

So they did just that. Patterson had no idea where they were going, just like she had no idea what her name was. They made their way through the maze of people, many times being shoved into each other. She had always dreamed of escaping the holiday party, and now she was being rescued by that nameless woman. Patterson turned her head over to check on the woman once she felt the absence of her hand on her arm. Patterson noticed how she had both hands covering her ears. It seemed that she wasn't a fan of the rowdy blasting music either.

It was when they made it outside of the club that Patterson finally asked for her name. "I thought that was the reason you were snooping through my sociology book." She noticed the deception in Patterson's eyes. "Cheer up, it's Tasha."

"Tasha, you wanna get a drink?" Yet, she was too busy checking out Patterson to hear what she was saying. No one could blame her, though, she was wearing a very intricate outfit: black pantyhose, black flats, a black skirt, a black top that had a rather long V-neck, a long red cardigan, and a gold necklace. "Tasha?"

She flipped her hair back, "I thought you were going to help me study?" She tilted her head, confused and amused. "If I would have wanted a drink, I would have been all up in that bar."

"You're right. Sorry." She wasn't sure if Tasha had taken the whole studying thing seriously, but it seemed she was. Patterson didn't want to disappoint, "There's a Starbucks around here, it's opened until eleven thirty. Do you want to go there?

"Yeah, the one on seventh."

Their walk there wasn't long, and it was only nine thirty, so really there was no rush for them to walk as fast as they were, but it was cold and knowing what day it was, they knew that a taxi wouldn't be there for a while. "Aren't you freezing?" Patterson glanced down at her legs.

"That's what I'm wondering about you," Tasha said as she referred to her legs that also seemed to be very exposed. They laughed, expelling the vapor from their breath. Tasha brought two fingers up to her mouth and pretended to smoke. She took a few steps closer to Patterson and exhaled a cloud of vapor all over Patterson's face. Her eyes closed shut and Patterson let out another laugh. Tasha pretended to pass Patterson the imaginary cigaret. Patterson smiled awkwardly knowing what she had to do with it. She did her best to imitate what Tasha had just done. "You've never smoked in your life, huh?"

"What?"

"I mean..." Tasha sounded upset. "You work for the government and you suck at pretending how to smoke." She sounded irritated, as if not smoking was a bad thing. "You've never smoked."

"How do you know that?" Tasha ignored Patterson's question, instead, she continued walking forward, hoping that she would also along with forgetting about her question. "Tasha." She said trying to catch up to her, "How do you know that I work for the government?"

Tasha turned around in a flash of a second, "One, you're college educated. Two, you mentioned holiday party. Three, Jane doesn't do a good job hiding her badge." She had only spent a few minutes with Tasha and she was already mad at her. Even more, Patterson was left dumbfounded by Tasha, again. "Are you also FBI?"

"Well, don't preach it," Patterson mumbled. Tasha nodded her head, seeming more disappointed than before. "There's a reason I don't tell people. How did you even see Jane's badge, no one was wearing their badge?"

"She had it in her purse." Tasha groaned, her arms crossed across her chest. She once again began to walk leaving Patterson behind. It wasn't snowing like most years, but it was still pretty damn cold. Patterson sped up behind her. She felt bad, not because she didn't tell Tasha about being FBI, but rather because Tasha wasn't too pleased about it.

She wanted to stand right next to Tasha, but they were so close to the Starbucks it was only a block from the corner. Then again, she couldn't complain at the view she was getting: Tasha fast walking in a short dress, her hips moving side to side and a great view of her ass. Patterson hated herself for focusing on such things, but then again who was Tasha to wear such provocative dress. When they finally got there Tasha didn't mind to look back if Patterson was still there. She walked up to the barista and ordered some drink. Patterson was about to order when she turned to see that Tasha had two cups. "They're not both for me."

They seated themselves at the table closest to the window, at first, only a couple of glances were exchanged followed by Tasha sighing and pulling out her book from her bag. "How did you know that I was right behind you, how did you know to order exactly two drinks?"

"Your footsteps, also the doorbell." She took a sip from her drink, a mocha latte.

"You make me feel stupid," Patterson admitted, taking a sip from her drink also. "Not like you know a lot of stuff, but like you know stuff like really useful stuff."

Tasha gasped, "I'm so flattered, especially since you're..." She leaned in closer, enough to make sure she could hear what she was about to whisper, "F-B-I" Patterson shushed her. "You know, if I was really that smart, I wouldn't be taking philosophy as a senior in college." She confessed

"So you're twenty-two?" Patterson asked.

Tasha shook her head smiling, "That's cute, but no." She took out her ID and handed it over to Patterson. "I'm thirty."

Patterson smiled and handed Tasha her ID back, "I can see, Ms. Zapata." She teased. "I'm thirty-one."

"Could I see your ID?"

Patterson glared at Tasha, "Really?"

"No, I was just playing."

She patted her textbook, "Are we going to do this study thing or are you going to continue your investigation.?" Patterson stole the book from Tasha's hands flipping to a random page.

While they were there, they weren't just studying, there were moments in which they went off topic and vented about their lives. Though at first they had a rough start at the beginning of the night, pretty soon they became comfortable around each other. Tasha was constantly asking Patterson questions about her shampoo and how she managed to keep her hair so soft. Patterson too asked Tasha millions of questions, many she avoided asking and other she answered abruptly. It didn't take long for Patterson to realize that Tasha had a hard life. She avoided all family questions and said she didn't have many friends. When she asked about her family Patterson noticed how tense Tasha became, but most of all the hurt in her face. She then decided to lay off all the personal questions.

Five minutes before closing time the barista came over to remind them of the closing time. At first, they were hesitant to leave. They lingered outside for a while. Freezing in the chill of the night. Patterson couldn't help but notice the constant swinging Tasha engaged in. She moved from side to side, her long hair following wherever her body went. "You're cold."

"Yeah," she admitted. "A lot." Patterson would have taken her cardigan off if she had asked, but she didn't. She didn't want to offer either because she knew she wouldn't stop thinking about that and other cliché things. "Patterson?"

"Yes, Ms. Zapata."

Tasha's face lit up, and for a second she forgot that she was freezing. "You know that whole getting like a drink thing? Is it still on? I mean not today, not right now, but like another day?" She then began to swing her body from side to side, holding on to the hem so her dress. Patterson still couldn't believe that she dared to wear such a dress on such a day. She noticed how she began to shiver and how she tried to hide it.

"I mean yes. Are we also going to study for your sociology class?" She asked.

Tasha shook her head, "N- no, were going to celebrate. My final is t- tomorrow." She continued to shiver. Tasha then violently turned around and saw that a Taxi was coming their way. She quickly moved her arm to see if she got its attention. When it did, it parked right in front of them. "I have to go." She took her textbook from her bag handing it over to Patterson. "My number's in there. Call or text me. I didn't realize how late it was. I really have to go."

Patterson would have suggested they carpool, but she was already inside, waving at her like a child. She waved back lifting the book up, trying to get her to understand that she would call. When the Taxi was finally out of sight, she opened the textbook. There on the first page in the corner was her name and her phone number right below. She took her phone out and added it to her contact list. She then sent her a message: Patterson. She wasn't expecting Tasha to reply, but deep down she wanted Tasha to reply because knowing herself she knew that she would become frustrated anytime soon.

She had never been out on the streets so late, usually because of the fear that something would happen, and although she did feel safer with Tasha, she did feel safe standing on the sidewalk right next to the closed Starbucks at 12:05 in the morning. She couldn't help but smile, holding on to the sociology textbook, the very one that initiated her interest for that nameless girl who then became Tasha. Lost in her thoughts she took her phone out and ordered an Uber. She swore she wasn't going to go home at the rush hour, but then again she never expected meet Tasha.

AN: This one is going to go for the long run. Please tell me what you think after reading it. This first chapter is mainly to set up how Tasha Zapata and Patterson meet. I really hope you guys like it! Please note that the rating will change as the chapters progress. Violence and torture is expected. Yes, I am dark. Let me know what you think.


	2. What a Beach

When she finally got out of the taxi she couldn't help but freak out when she didn't feel her textbook in her bag. It took her a few seconds to remember that she gave it to Patterson. Just the thought of the FBI agent caused her to slip a smirk. She paid the taxi and then rushed up the stairs. At first, she was a little conscious when opening the door, but noticing that the living room was empty, she then knew that it was clear to go in. Before she walked in she grabbed a cigarette from her bag and placed it between her lips. Fuck it, it had been a good day after all.

The broken glass from yesterday was still on the kitchen floor, no one cared to pick it up, just like always. In a matter of hours she would be abruptly woken. Either by the sound of the door opening an endless amount of times or by the voices yelling and whispering whilst she pretended to be asleep. She hated herself for being stupid and choosing the living room as her room. When she first arrived there she let herself be fooled by the older girls. Yeah, you know the living room is bigger. I mean… Everyone else has to crowd in the other rooms. Also, I mean, the living room is right next to the kitchen. Rosa was the woman who convinced her not to take the upper bunk in the room closest to the bathroom. At first, she thought she was looking out for her, but really it was all just a farce to make sure the newbies were deceived. Then, at twenty-three years old she felt strong and wise like she had gone through enough in life not to be fooled easily. But, Rosa made it obvious that she had no idea what she was getting herself into.

She decided to plop herself on the futon, without pulling it out to turn it into a bed. She grasped the dark blue wool blanket and covered herself up. The cigarette on her lips was about to fall, but Tasha took it out of her lips. With one hand she cupped her face while with the other she held on tight to her only friend. Tasha took a deep breath, she had to remind herself to be strong and to hold on for a bit longer. Her lips quivered but she shook it off. "Think happy thoughts, Tasha." Her voice croaked. How she wish she could convince herself to do so, but really there was nothing great in her life to composing processes of positive thinking.

She heard the jingling of keys outside so she put her cigarette away before the door opened. She didn't want to open her eyes to see who it was. Instead, she kept her eyes closed and her lips tightly shut. She became more aware of her breathing and the footsteps. The light was flickered on and then she heard the fridge open. The footsteps came back and she felt as someone caressed her hair. She opened her eyes and in front of her was Ana. Tar black tears slid down her face. She sighed in relief, but relief was something that did not last long. Ana was crying, so Tasha was quick again to worry.

"Tasha. I need to talk to you." She sniffled. She didn't have to say more. Tasha was already sitting right up. She grasped the corner of the blanket and attempted to wipe Ana's tears. Instead, Ana turned her head, neglecting her. "Es grave." (((It's serious)))

" Pues entonces dime." (((Well then, tell me))) she asked concerned.

"I'm pregnant, Tash." She quietly sniffled and glanced at Tasha who was not in a state of disbelief, but rather disappointed.

She continued to glare at Ana, feeling her blood boil. "Well..." she managed to say, "Congrats." She tried her best to avoid the rancor in her voice, but somehow it managed to creep up.

"Tash, don't be like that," Ana begged. She reached to grasp Tasha's arm, but Tasha pushed her off, moving to the other side of the futon. "Tash, we were never exclusive to start with. Also, you know it was a mistake." Tasha nodded. She cupped her own face with both hands, so mad that she didn't even want to see Ana. "I'm sorry, and if I could take it back I would."

"Get the fuck out of my face. You only say that 'cause you got knocked up." Tasha screeched through her teeth, feeling the tears, she tried so hard to keep in, ooze out. She got up from where she was standing, smearing her mascara all over her face. Her throat was burning and she knew if Ana mentioned anything more she would lose it. So instead she fled to the bathroom and locked herself in, because she was safer in there.

Ana and Tasha shared the living room, unlike the other rooms in the house, it was the only one that was not crowded. They both had their own futon to pull out at night, but somehow they ended up on the same one. Many of the other girls would tease them about being gay, calling them lesbians and what not. Tasha would remember how Ana would shrug it off as if it didn't matter as if it was just a joke. She, on the other hand, felt as if her soft squishy heart were being prodded by a cold metal rod. It made her feel sick because she did have feelings for Ana.

She loved Ana, and she hated herself for loving her. It wasn't entirely her fault, though. Ana, though sometimes drunk off of her feet, flirted with Tasha, cuddled with Tasha, kissed Tasha, and loved Tasha. When Tasha finally confronted her about it they decided to give whatever was between them a go. That's when Tasha believed she had found what she had been looking for all her life, just to have it ripped away from her weeks later.

It was early in the morning when one of the girls knocked on the bathroom door. "Tash, ya hoggin' it, princess." It was Rebecca. "O te sales o te saco?" (((Either you get out or I'll get you out.)))Tasha's eyes weren't even open when she felt the sharp pain radiating down her neck. She had fallen asleep in the tub of the bathroom. Her vision was a bit blurry at first, but then everything started becoming sharp. The banging on the door finally stopped once she opened it. "Get out," Rebecca insisted as she pushed her out of the way.

The early morning rush was one of the worst things about living in an apartment with nine other girls because there were only two bathrooms. Tasha rubbed her stiff neck with her hands. Luckily for her Ana had already left for work. She knew that in a matter of one or two hours the whole place would be empty. So in the meantime she made herself something to eat, after all, it had been a while since she set foot in the kitchen. After making herself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich she had remembered why she didn't cook that often. The kitchen was a total mess. Not the usual mess where there's piles of plates and moldy food, but the mess where roaches crawl all around, unfinished soda cans decorate the table and the rotten food from the fridge is the scent that dominates all. Many times she had tried to clean the place up a bit, but many times after the kitchen would end up looking the same. She learned the hard way.

When almost everyone was gone she took out her laptop from inside of the futon. She knew that with the crew she live with, she had to be very careful of where she left things. It was her last day to take her final, so she did. Luckily for her everything went as planned and no one decided to randomly disconnect or reset the internet.

Tasha looked at her phone, but it wasn't in its usual hiding place. "Shit," Tasha swore. "No, no, no." She started moving pillows frantically. "Fuck!" She rushed to the bathroom praying that it would be there. Her phone was on the corner of the sink, and she felt very relieved. Looking down at the lit screen she noticed that there was a text. It was from Patterson, it read: _Hey, it's Patterson. Text me when your test is over. Good luck by the way._

Tasha was in awe, the white girl texted. Somehow it made her feel a little confident, it made her feel important. _I just finished. Is tonight fine?_

 _Tonight is perfect. Eight or nine? We're still on for drinks, right?_ Patterson texted back.

Tasha couldn't believe that Patterson was taking her time to reply. _Yes, is eight okay?_

Once plans were set and everything seemed in place, Tasha went out for a walk and to grab lunch. Talking to Patterson, the cute FBI agent, was something so exciting and new to her. Something about who Patterson was made her feel like she was living on the edge. Though if she had to be frank, part of her was fearful that Patterson would discover who she, Natasha Zapata, really was.

Since they were going to the beach Tasha decided to wear a short maroon dress. It had a simple design of thin stripes running vertically and the occasional stamping of small white doves. The dress had thick straps but presented the valley between her breasts rather well. She didn't try that much with her makeup, after all, it was going to be dark. There was no reason for her to copy her previous night's attire. So she put on her black flats and headed course to the station. As she walked down the streets, her hand holding tight onto the small bag that dangled across her shoulder, she couldn't help but feel purpose. It had been ages since she last step foot in the rocky tan sand that was Manhattan beach.

She kept turning her head over wishing to see Patterson approach her while her feet were deep in the sand. It was cold, colder than the day before, and Tasha wore another dress. She wasn't sure how the regular Patterson would look. The one that hadn't just been at a holiday party drinking and cheering with coworkers. There wasn't really any people there at the beach, except for a few families and what looked to be vacationing college students. She looked down at her hands and noticed that they were pretty sweaty. Cleaning them off on her dress probably wasn't the best idea, but she didn't want to shake Patterson's hand with damp palms, that was if she appeared.

Suddenly she felt as little grains of sand fell on top of her thighs. Realizing it was Patterson she snapped out of her daze and ongoing prison of thoughts. "You came?" Tasha asked as she turned to face Patterson who had gotten herself comfortable next to her.

"Well, yeah." She continued to get herself comfortable. "Wasn't that the whole point of making plans?"

Tasha grinned and opened her purse. There she took out a box of cigarettes. She could tell that Patterson seemed a little uneasy about the box filled with rows of drugs. Tasha quickly put the box back in her purse. "It's not weed, so relax." Tasha noticed that Patterson did not give a very convincing laugh in response to her comment.

Patterson grinned and took out a water bottle filled with bright golden liquid, "It's not apple juice, but it will help you relax." Tasha's eyes swelled with joy and Patterson's face seemed to glow, warm and vibrant, all thanks to the simple smile that decorated her lips and expression.

"Smart girl," Tasha noted as she grabbed the bottle. Though she tried her best not to smile or look at Patterson for too long, she had a feeling that the FBI agent had noticed it. Feeling nervous and unsure she began to dig a hole in the sand. "But we should probably wait a little later, you know before we crack it open."

"So you're also a smart girl?"

"I guess." Tasha rose her shoulders, "I don't mean to brag but I got an A on my final. So..."

Patterson applauded and congratulated her. "So studying last night helped?" She shook out her ponytail and let her short hair loose. The long soft hair that Tasha so wanted to run her finger down. "We should do that more often then, right?"

"Yeah," Tasha agreed. She bit her lip and dug her fingers deep into the sand. Patterson couldn't help but notice how sexy Tasha looked. The dress, her face, her body, and just everything else. Tasha knew where her eyes were at, not because the FBI agent wasn't subtle, but because she could easily recognize when someone was staring at her in a wanting manner. Trying to diverge the attention from her body, she cleared her throat and spoke, "Your hair looks really nice when its down."

Patterson chuckled, "Yeah, sure."

Tasha scooted in closer, her fingers inches from Patterson's face and hair. Patterson tried to play it cool, wasn't doing a great job at it, though. Especially not when her eyes caught a glance at Tasha's breasts. So they lingered there for a while. Her birthmark was a little distracting and part of the reason she kept her eyes on Tasha's chest. It wasn't until Tasha grabbed Patterson's chin to redirect her attention. "Can I touch it?" her eyebrows went up, but they weren't supposed to. She cursed inside her head. Patterson nodded and then Tasha ran her finger over her hair. "Why is it that blondes have the softest hair? Must be the lack of melanin."

"Could be." Patterson reached over to her bag where she pulled out the bottle. "I know we agreed on later, but a little right now can't hurt." She opened the water bottle and drank from the cool golden liquid. It was her favorite Jack, the type she only opened in the winter. Tasha, previously known as the girl without a name and before that mystery girl, was making it really hard to just want to be friends. Before Patterson closed the lid she handed it over to Tasha. Her dark eyes widened and her grip on the bottle became stronger. She carefully took a few tiny sips, before she took a long gulp. She winced and shuddered before she closed the bottle. "Too strong for you?"

"Maybe," Tasha admitted as she peered at the ocean, the waves seeming to hypnotize her. From the look of it, it seemed as if the sun were to set in a matter of minutes."Do you think the water's cold?"

"Well, yeah, it's not called winter for nothing. I mean, it may not be snowing, but it is pretty cold. For that, you can sincerely blame global warming, which is real by the way. Wait, don't tell me you're going to go in." Patterson saw how focused Tasha was on the crashing waves and the little grin she was trying to hide. "Tasha?"

She glanced at Patterson with a full blown smile. "Well, I mean it's not that bad like you said, it could be snowing. Also, global warming, so it should be warmer than most winters." Tasha glanced down at Patterson's outfit: a plushy sweater, and leggings, definitely more appropriate for the season, but Tasha's outfit was just divine. "Please." She gripped both of her hands and brought them close up to her face. "Patterson, don't be a jerk."

"What if we drown? Or what if we freeze to death?"

"What if we don't, and we don't go in too deep." Tasha batted her lashes a little. "I got an A."

Patterson glanced down at her outfit. "I don't know… I mean it is like fifty degrees. But, what if my underwear and bra don't match."

"At least you're wearing underwear." Tasha blurted out whilst playing with the rim of her dress.

"What?" Patterson asked surprised. "You're not-"

Tasha covered Patterson's mouth. "I am, I am. I was just saying." She lifted her hand from Patterson's mouth. "There could be worse scenarios. So will ya? Don't leave me all alone, in the ocean, all sad and cold." As if her words enough, Tasha pouted her lips a little and batted her lashes. Patterson was used to peer pressure, but Tasha was a persuasive wizard and she felt like a daredevil when glancing at those exuberant eyes. "Fine."

Tasha quickly got up, sand flying everywhere and her dress off in a matter of seconds. She swung her long dark hair to the side. She gripped Patterson's hands and pulled her close. She pulled even harder when she noticed that Patterson was trying to resist. "Cmon' Patterson." She continued to pull harder. She eventually gave up leaving Patterson on the sand. "Okay." Tasha walked off and mumbled something under her breath. When she was already a few feet away the only sound left was the jingling of her bellybutton ring.

The FBI agent was left sitting in the sand; Tasha was walking herself to the salty sea. Patterson didn't mind sitting there a while more. The view was pleasing to the eye, just like it was last night.

Patterson saw as Tasha walked into a crashing wave and didn't stop walking until the water was covering Tasha's bellybutton ring. Patterson was tempted to go in, but she feared getting sick. Her head felt flooded with whether she should go or not. She hated this kind of stuff, it was so hard making choices. Knowing she would regret seeing the kind woman move with the waves all alone, she decided to get up. So she hid the "bottle" of Jack and walked slowly to the edge, where the chilled water touched her toes. She shivered.

Tasha had her back to Patterson and was far too busy running some of the salty water down her hair, to notice the presence of the interesting gal she had met last night. Lost in her thoughts she kept running her fingers through the same strands of hair. She remembered. The hot days of the summer with her brothers were the best days, but they didn't last that long. When she entered junior high she waited for the summer, school to be over, and for her grandmother to take them to the beach. Once they stepped foot on the sand they raced to see who was the first to put their head in the water. They usually were there for a long time, until the sun went in. On the way home they sucked on fruity ice pops that they sold at the park nearby. Later at home, usually past her bedtime, little Tasha would avoid taking a shower just to suck the salty water out of her hair all through the night.

Patterson didn't think that Tasha, the girl with the bellybutton piercing, would be so distracted running her fingers down her hair and contemplating the horizon. So she took off her dress and threw it back and hoped that the water wouldn't rise up anytime soon. She looked down at her sky blue underwear and pink bra. Curiosity sparked and her eyes were looking at Tasha. She had on a black underwear, a black bra and though she couldn't see it, a diamond belly button piercing. The piercing was pretty sexy, it was just single rock that at least resembled a diamond.

Tasha, her hair dripping a million droplets, glanced over at Patterson and motioned her over. Patterson walked over but squealed before she reached Tasha's side. The soaked tan woman rolled her eyes. "What? It's kinda colder than expected." Patterson waited for her to say something, but instead Tasha splashed the water. Patterson closed her eyes. 'What the fuck, Tasha."

"What?" She pretended to be serious.

"This?!" She pointed to her face that was dripping sea water and jet black mascara. Tasha shrugged, trying to act innocent. Patterson closed her eyes shut, "My eyes hurt." Tasha feeling a little guilty took a few steps closer and extended her hand out to help her, but Patterson had other plans. She grabbed her hand and pulled her off balance. Tasha fell face first into the water. Patterson's eyes opened wide at the sight of Tasha falling. Patterson cursed. Tasha quickly got up, a little off balanced and with her fists rubbing on her eyelids. "Ohh my god, I didn't think that you would fall. I'm sorry, please don't push me." Patterson begged.

Tasha really didn't seem to care, though. She got close enough to Patterson to push her, but seeing the FBI agent cringe in fear was enough revenge for her. Instead, her eyes lingered on the rest of her body. Tasha gulped and grabbed the fearful woman's hand. "Chill, Patterson. I'm not going to splash you." The tan beauty squeezed Patterson's hand and let it go. "Or am I?"

Patterson nervously laughed, "You're kidding, right?" Tasha didn't say anything right away. She just happened to get lost in the magnetic turquoise blue eyes that were busy asking for mercy.

"Yeah..." Tasha whispered in an almost inaudible voice. Without thinking it she grasped Patterson's hand, again. It wasn't the first time, but it felt as strange as the first. Tasha glanced down and tried not to smiled. She was going to say something, but then both looked down, and both felt how tight their grip was. Patterson was going to say something, but Ms. Zapata decided to run off. It was then clear that she had to run after her.

Patterson was trying her best not to get too far behind, but she kept almost tripping over rocks. "Slow down." She yelled as she watched Tasha plop herself on the sand next to her clothes. "Wait," Patterson begged. "I forgot my clothes." She went back for them, and luckily for her, they had not been swept away from the tormenting waves that started crashing on the shore.

Out of breath and with her legs all sandy, Patterson, sat next to Tasha who still in just her underwear was lying on the sand. "I'm tanning."

Patterson shook her head in disbelief, but there was an amiable smile on her face. "With no sun?"Her voice still a little breathy from the run there. She challenged the woman with the bellybutton ring that shimmered every time Tasha's abdomen moved to her breaths.

She hummed in agreement. "You see, we may not see it, but it's still there."

"I know what you mean, but-"

"Shh," Tasha quieted her as she grasped the moved in search of the bottle. Her fingers moved along the sand as if a metal detector, and once she found her prize she pulled it out. Patterson was expecting to see Tasha drink from the bottle first, but she didn't. Instead, she offered it to Patterson who gratefully obliged. Tasha took the bottle from her hand after a few sips. She patted the spot next to her, "Not every night can you see the stars so clearly."

Patterson put on shirt and leggings. It was getting really chilly and she didn't understand how Tasha could still be in just a black bra and panties. She notices that Tasha gets lost in the stars pretty easily. It's mostly quiet between the two, the waves crashing being the only exception to minimal sound. It isn't long until Patterson loses herself in her own thoughts. She asks herself what she wants from Tasha― friendship or a relationship― because she knew both would be difficult. What if Tasha didn't like girls? What if Tasha didn't want her? What if she's scared of her because she's FBI? What if she gets too scared and doesn't have enough courage to ask her out? What if she regrets just being her friend? Or what if Tasha doesn't want to see her again after parting ways?

Out of the corner of Patterson's eye, she notices how Tasha bends ups to search for something in the bag. From it, she pulls a box of cigarettes. For a while, she's searching for that lighter until eventually, she starts to smoke. Before she exhales all those toxic fumes, she turns on her side a little. "Sorry." Tasha buried the cigarette in the sand to turn it off. "I forgot to ask you, but do you mind?" Her cheeks seems a little warm and by the sound of her tone, she can tell she's embarrassed.

"No, it's fine," Patterson says.

Tasha opens the little box up and lights another, "You want one?" She mumbles as the cigarette hangs from her mouth. When she's about to light it Patterson takes the lighter from her and lights the cigarette from her. "Thank you." Tasha says as she shivers.

"Put your clothes on." Patterson addresses the second shiver that she tried to hide. Tasha asks her to wait a minute and she lays back down in the sand. Patterson takes the cigarette from her. "You're going to get sick. If it's because you don't want to waste another, I can hold it for you."

She's quick to get on her feet and put on that dress. She notices that Patterson's eyes never leave her body and something tells her that maybe she isn't seeing things like she last time. Tasha smiles kindly at Patterson and lies down with her cigarette at hand. They talk a little. Patterson doesn't ask much about Tasha's childhood, but rather focuses on where she works. Tasha lies. She doesn't tell her about the strip club, nor about Ignacio, and much less about what happens. She fabricates a story, one where she helps a friend clean rich people houses in the mornings. Patterson takes the cigarette from Patterson, she puts it to her mouth and inhales. It grasps Tasha's attention that she has to get up to see her in action. It isn't long before the FBI agent is coughing in desperation and Tasha laughing in amusement.

"You thought," Tasha says. "Don't do drugs." She checks the time on her phone, but all she finds are messages from Ignacio and Ana. "Shit." She says worried, now, she, the one in desperation. She gets up, packing her bag in frustration. She sucks hard on the cigarette before she frantically runs her hand through her hair.

"Tasha, what's wrong?" Patterson who seems frightened asks.

Tasha's stomach is killing her. "I-" She stutters a lot more, not being able to say anything coherent. Patterson gets up in a beat and grabs Tasha from the shoulders. Tasha takes a breath and then dares to look Patterson in the eyes, those turquoise blue eyes that left her bemused before.

"What is it?" Patterson' face so close to hers.

Tasha get's the chills before she can say a single word. "My roommate left to New Jersey for the weekend...and she didn't leave the key for me." Tasha was hoping it didn't sound like she was lying because she was. She couldn't look at Patterson any longer.

Patterson smirked, "You can stay with me." She offered, as she waited for Tasha to look at her. "Tash..."

"I don't know..." She moved her hair to the side, away from her face. "I-" Tasha glanced up at Patterson. "I just don't want to bother you. I can ask my cousin, or-"

Her eyes rolled. "Then let me give you a ride. I brought my car here." She noticed Tasha was still a little worried. "Tasha-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Tasha agreed, her face seeming a little less panicked. "Can I actually stay at your place." She glanced down at her phone, reading the messages from Ignacio and Ana.

"Of course." It was obvious that there was something else, something Tasha wasn't saying. Patterson knew that most people didn't make such a big scene about getting locked out.

They started walking towards their destination: the parking lot. In the cold, dark, silence that the winter night brought. Tasha still seemed a little uneasy even after accepting her invitation. Patterson wanted to know what was wrong, but she knew it would be a while before she could get anything out of her guest. and Patterson being as It was minutes later and Tasha still seemed worried. Looking to her side, she saw the shorter woman's head seemed to slouch and her investigative instinct won and she asked: "You, okay?"

She looked up at her, and then nodded. There was really nothing else to say. How was Tasha suppose to tell Patterson the truth? So for the time being, she alone was supposed to cope with being nervous as hell. She knew Patterson wasn't convinced, that's probably why before the got in the car she secretively glanced at her. Before she turned on the engine, she smiled at her and her smile made her feel a little more at ease. It made her hope for the best, even though she knew that was impossible.


End file.
